Obsession: The Seven Deadly Sins

S L O T H

Sloth [slôTH]

(n.) reluctance to work or make an effort; laziness.
Synonym: Acedia

Kink: BDSM - Lazy Submissive

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POV Bucky in 2025 at his and Steve's new NYC apartment

The sun went down a while ago, I can't even remember when, and I don't really care to check the clock anyway. The TV flickers in front of me from the show I had been watching to some stupid commercial I've seen a hundred times this week.

I reach over to the side table to my right and crack open another beer that's been waiting there for me since I got up for lunch who knows how long ago. Now that it's winter, it's hard to know what time it is because of how early the sun sets, but it can't be that late considering that Steve has yet to come home.

Leaning back in the reclining chair, I take a big gulp of the amber fluid, savoring it for the taste since I know I won't get a buzz from the alcohol content given my abilities. It warms my insides, and I watch the TV yet again as my show starts up from the commercial break.

The front door lock turns and opens. I flick my eyes over to see that it's Steve in his uniform. Now that Thanos isn't a threat anymore, he's been working with some of the others to restore Earth to its pre-intergalactic-war glory. That means settling disputes, finding homes for displaced persons, keeping new threats at bay... a lot of hard work that I gladly opted out of. I needed the break after being tortured and used for the last 90 years of my painful existence.

These last two years have been all about taking time for me to simply relax.

"Hey Buck," he greets me, a smile on his face as he flicks on the lights. I squint and shield my eyes from the brightness.

"Hey," I reply, the first time I've heard myself speak today since he left at 7:00 am - well before I actually got out of bed.

I watch him start taking off his uniform. It isn't nearly as dirty as it has been on several other occasions, but I imagine wearing it every day gets tiring.

Suddenly his eyes fall on me, he's shirtless now and only wearing the pants he came in wearing. His body is sculpted like a statue and covered in sweat, a beautiful masterpiece wherever you look. He approaches me and I keep my eyes on his every movement, drinking the rest of my beer in one shot. He looks down at me from where he stands and scans my whole body.

"What?" I ask lightly, curious about what's on his mind.

He shakes his head making a face I can't read. "You haven't been working out with me lately," he mentions with a saddened tone, not at all what I expected him to say.

"I haven't gone since before the Blip, Steve," I tell him, not even noticing the fact of the matter until after he stated it.

"I know," he answers, hesitating a little. He waits a moment before speaking again. "You've... let yourself go, Buck."

I don't say anything to that, I just look at him as he looks down at the rest of me and away from my face. His eyes linger where my visible abs used to be, as I'm not wearing a shirt, at the stockier build I now possess and the ever-so-slight overhang at the waist of my grey sweatpants.

I look back at the TV and decide to ignore the path his eyes are taking now, resisting the urge in the moment to compare my sub-par body to his perfect one. "I could be back to the shape I was in a few years ago in quite literally a month, if not less. I won't, but I can."